


November

by AMaskOnTwoFaces



Series: A Mask On One Shots [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Drabble Collection, Gen, Inspired By Tumblr, Self-Indulgent, ish, that's exactly what you'll find here, those are my favorite to write, y'know those moments in time that stretch on for eternity?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-01
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27814195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMaskOnTwoFaces/pseuds/AMaskOnTwoFaces
Summary: The trees are bare, leaves decaying on the ground. A time where people come together out of the cold, but those left behind feel the mantle of their isolation more heavily than usual.A couple of introspective, Harry-centric snippets inspired by the creativepromptsforwriting November Tumblr post.
Series: A Mask On One Shots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1866877
Kudos: 5





	November

**Author's Note:**

> These were entirely self-indulgent. I most enjoy describing things; capturing a single moment in time and exploring how one particular aspect of that feels. From the list of 30 prompts provided, I am only here doing the first five. The rest did not call to me in any way. 
> 
> Since these were all written on my phone, they’re very short, and therefore not even worth separating into their own chapters. However, I have organized them in a manner that reads more as a cohesive story (emotionally, not chronologically), as opposed to the order they were assigned in.
> 
> I believe these all deviate very slightly from canon. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**_3: Tea Time_ **

The clink of the cup against the saucer echoes too loud in the near-silent office. It’s a bit awkward, having tea with your professor as a 13-year-old.

Harry feels the emptiness of the castle around them in his bones; all those children, free to go off to Hogsmead with not a care in the world. Only worrying about the amount of coins in their pockets and how much candy they can buy. Only passionate about who’s hand they can hold, who’s lips they can kiss.

Harry’s still angry at yet another injustice against him, yet another thing to make him apart, to make him _different_.

Stewing here, in the professor’s office, he forces his hand to steady as it raises the tea once again to his lips. Forces his grip to remain gentle where it wants to snap the delicate handle in two.

With one final swallow, there’s nothing left but the dredges. Bitter and unwanted; they’re left behind.

**_5: Carriage Ride_ **

Hagrid’s voice calling for the first years could be heard all the way by the carriages.

Harry paid it no mind, instead giving all his attention to the thestral in front of him. Having had a year to acclimate to their bony forms, he could now appreciate the rightness of the creatures being the symbols of death; how they were hollowed out and withered down, how even when they look like they should collapse at any moment, they continue to be strong and carry on.

Death is a powerful force, forever changing all that manage to survive it’s reaches. And to manage flight in its face?

Harry exhaled a shaky breath, shaking his head. To fly in the face of death; thestrals are beings of the fiercest caliber.

**_2: Memories_ **

When the door opens, the words burst from his lips with a sob.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaims, chest heaving with the force of it for a minute. He chances a glance up, spying Snape’s face; hard and cold like never before, though one eyebrow is lifted in the smallest gesture of ‘go on’ a wizard has ever seen.

“I’m sorry,” Harry repeats, cheeks heating as he ducks his head back down, “I shouldn’t have looked in your pensive like that. It was rude and insensitive and a huge invasion to your privacy and you were right to be mad at me.” He watches the way his toe kicks at the ground as he continues, mumbling, “I just, I got so _frustrated_ , since all the direction you ever seem to give me is to clear my mind, but I don’t know what that _means_. I try so hard but I barely understand how I’m supposed to do this, and it feels like you trying to get in my mind is just attacking me over and over when I don’t have any idea how to defend myself.”

His inhale is shaky as he digs his palms into his traitorous eyes. He’s not crying, he’s _not_.

“I just--I want to learn--so badly. I _know_ I need to learn, but I just feel exhausted and overwhelmed and like nothing I try ever changes anything…” he stops, throat thick.

In through the nose, out through the mouth, he tells himself. Vaguely, he hears Snape walk away.

“Well?” Snape drawls, “Come inside, then.”

**_1: Crisp Air_ **

The air is cold and sharp, icy blades slicing down his throat with every ragged inhale. A tear down his cheek leaves a line of freezing skin, naked and exposed to the wind caressing his face with careless hands.

He gasps, shivering.

This is it, isn’t it? He’s really going through with this; a pig raised to walk knowingly to its own slaughter…

“I’m about to die,” he whispers, and the snitch opens with a click so soft that it’s almost lost in the sound of the leaves rustling around him.

**_4: Rainy_ **

He doesn’t care about the occasional drop splattering him through the open window. It’s inconsequential against the indescribable feeling of being drowned out, of being insignificant against the pure downpour of the storm outside.

Harry tugs his knees in tighter where he’s huddled on the sill, gaze seeing nothing and everything all at once in the haze of torrential falling water.

A hum sounds to his right, and he jerks his head just an inch in that direction, eyes never leaving the all-encompassing velocity of the weather outside as he ascertains that, yes, that is Luna.

Luna, who’s so strange and different, yet oh-so-comfortable in her otherness.

Unlike Harry--who’s only ever wanted to fit in, to get lost in the crowd--Luna is unafraid to stand out, stand apart. She’s so much braver than him, so much more self-assured that he can’t help but be drawn to her, look up to her, defend her at every turn.

Her voice is soft and soothing as she explains yet another of her strange creatures to him, and Harry lets it wash over him with the rain.

If Harry’s only ever wanted to be a raindrop, lost in the infinity of the storm, Luna is the raven who is teaching him to spread his wings and fly like the bird he is; cutting through wind and water with ease to reach where he is destined to be.

**Author's Note:**

> To give you an idea of why I don’t normally plan my stories out beyond the vaguest of outlines, these were my original notes that I wrote for the fifth prompt when I didn’t have time to finish it when the idea originally came to me: “Thestrals; children loud and normal around him as he cuddles a thestral. Nothing will ever be normal again now that Sirius is dead.”
> 
> But when I came back to it at a different time, my brain took it in a completely different place; not outright mentioning Sirius at all. But that’s alright, that’s how creativity works. The product always turns out better for me in the end if I let my brain go where it wants in the moment, not trying to force it down an old path that it already abandoned.
> 
> (Also, if you follow "Where We All Come Together", I have the next chapter written, I just need to find a couple of hours to edit and make sure it reads smoothly before I'll feel ready to post it. I actually had the end of the chapter written about 6 months ago (which is very unusual for me--to not write things strictly beginning to end--due to my aforementioned fickle muse), had the beginning written when I posted the previous chapter (what was that, like two months ago now?), and wrote the middle about a week or two ago. So, needless to say, there's an emotional rollercoaster that's happening right now that doesn't quite flow correctly, due to the mood I was in when I wrote each section. However, if you've also noticed, I update about 0 times a month when the sun isn't in the sky to motivate my productivity during my free time, so who knows when this will actually get to you.)
> 
> (And if you follow "The Hulk and The Bird On Fire", I have several more chapters written; just, again, motivation is lacking to edit so I can post. Don't hold your breath, just know that things aren't abandoned.)


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